


Musings

by sweeterthankarma



Category: New Amsterdam (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Introspection, S1E21: This Is Not The End
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:35:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23126392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweeterthankarma/pseuds/sweeterthankarma
Summary: When Akash walks away, Helen should be sad.
Relationships: Akash Panthaki/Helen Sharpe, Max Goodwin/Helen Sharpe
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Musings

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this (almost a year ago!) after watching 1x21 and forgot to post it. It's essentially just an unnecessarily long winded peek into Helen's mind after that scene with Panthaki that led to their break up, but I love writing about the way Helen thinks about and perceives Max, as well as her own choices and identity.

When Akash walks away, Helen should be sad. It would make sense to be sad in a situation like this, and there’s a part of her that knows this, just as there’s a part of her that would chase after him and try to rephrase herself, to shrink her feelings, to shrink her own identity and her promises and her devotion to other people besides just her boyfriend. In a different lifetime she’d do exactly that, if she was in a world where Max Goodwin wasn’t around to stay wrapped around her finger, but  _ goddamn it, _ he is, and honestly, he deserves it, especially right now as the whole point of everything is to make sure no one has to see a world without him. 

Especially not Helen. She doesn’t even want to think about what that kind of world would look like.

So, with that on her mind, Helen isn’t sad. Not at all. 

She’s a bit angry, in a subconscious way that she only notices when she’s halfway home and finds that the soles on her feet are aching from the way that she walks, insistent and impassioned as she practically stomps down West 26th Street. She has too many questions in her mind, demanding answers that she offers back in an immediate, consistent dialogue. She can think things through rationally, make conclusive, sensible decisions— why can’t Akash?

How can’t he see how much Max needs help? 

How can’t he be inspired by him, in the way that nearly every person that crosses his path is?

How can he not realize how much Max has improved New Amsterdam, and so many people's lives in the process?

How can he not sympathize, to ache along with Helen at the mere sight, at the mere thought of Max in pain, let alone the fact that he is wasting away thanks to his chemotherapy, falling victim to a disease that has already racked up far too many casualties to count? 

Akash is an oncologist, after all. He knows how this goes, just as Helen does, and while it never gets easier to face the truth or to grieve with the patients, he should know better than to think that Helen would let anyone suffer if she can help it— especially not Max. Because Max is...well, he’s  _ Max. _

Helen doesn’t have strong enough words in her vocabulary to describe him or the relentless, beautiful way that he exists in all of his capacity. She’ll be the first to admit, he’s bloody brilliant in every sense of his existence. With all of his effort and fight and strife, he’s unapologetic and deserving and selfless, though oftentimes to a fault, or even a danger, as the current situation can attest to. 

Max is good. He’s _ too _ good sometimes. He’s the kind of person who gives and rarely takes, and he pushes when he has to but never when it isn’t for something worth it— and maybe that’s the only phrase Helen can use for him that suffices. Maybe it’s the only phrase that says who he is, how he is, and while it’s certainly not enough to cover his identity, it’s a start:  _ worth it.  _

That’s what Max is to Helen.

More than worth it.

Maybe that’s why Akash walked away. Maybe he knew. He had teased her weeks ago during their date night as his eyes had glittered in that half-believing, intrigued way, as if he was looking right through her. It was a familiar scene: Helen had answered Max’s call and fallen into line immediately, offering whatever he needed at the soonest moment she could give it to him. Helen had felt exposed that night, like Akash had ripped off a Band-Aid that she didn’t know she had stuck on her. 

It’s almost funny because Akash knew. He must have. He knew then just as he knows now. Helen doesn’t know what exactly it is that he knows—  _ how can she describe it?— _ but she knows it, too.

It’s...whatever this pull that Max has on her. It’s just...Max. Just him. 

It’s him. Simple as that. And Helen cannot, she will not, under absolutely no conditions, let him go. Not any longer, and certainly not due to squamous cell carcinoma.

The reasons as to why Helen holds on so tightly to Max, as to why the sight of him breaks her heart so much— she isn’t sure she’s in a headspace to entertain what that really means for her. The sight of him limping down the hallway, overcome with fatigue and impending doom, practically tempting the devil to come knock on his door while heading to the break room to try to swallow down a few more saltines, is certainly a factor. She pretends it’s the most poignant one because it’s hard enough to be Max’s friend and coworker, even harder to be his doctor, and to add that weight of immense, unspeakable emotion _ — affection— _ to her conscience will only make things harder. A part of her already knows what she feels for him anyways, already has it defined in a neat little box fit for that four letter word that she doesn’t dare speak aloud. But it’s terrifying to admit and invokes implications that she isn’t ready for, and quite frankly, she doesn’t have the time, especially not now.

So, Helen should be sad about this. But she isn’t, not at all. 

There were always too many voices in Helen’s head, always trying to decipher right from wrong. She had tried to love Akash on her own, free from any expectations or responsibility, and she’d believed it a little bit, too. But that part of her, that voice that always whispers, quiet but clear, had laughed at her distant musings of a future that she knew she didn’t want. It had become pacifying, more of a guiding force than it should have been. When heart finally chimed in, told her to let Akash go and not chase after him, she had listened. 

Helen should be sad. But she isn’t, not at all. Akash will move on. She’ll sleep easier at night without him, knowing she isn’t weighing him down, leading him on. It’ll hurt for a bit, but she’’ll be alright. And Max will get better, mark Helen’s words, because that’s the only thing she really cares about. He’s the only person she really needs.

“This is about Max,” Akash had said, and Helen hadn’t argued with him. They both knew that was the truth of the matter long before he had said it aloud.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to talk to me about Sharpwin in the comments or at my tumblr blog under the same username, sweeterthankarma! There's never a time where I'm not in my feelings about them or this show overall.


End file.
